Rollstepping
by fangirlkris
Summary: When Blaine's little sister Layla comes to McKinley, she meets her own group of freaks and geeks. What will happen when her relationship with her brother strains due to his friends?
1. Chapter 1

"You ready, Lay?" Blaine asked, leaning against the doorframe of his sister's room. She sighed, putting the lid back onto her eyeliner stick and setting it down on her make-up counter. This was the beginning of her first day of her Sophomore year. She was starting all over- a new town and a new school.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said, picking up her mostly-empty book sack and walking out of the door. Their father was sitting in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and reading his paper.

"You kids be good now," he called as the two closed the door. They walked to school, being in that it was only two blocks away, Blaine reassuring Layla the entire way.

"Public high schools aren't actually that bad. I mean, sure, my first one wasn't the greatest, but McKinley's better. Kurt went to McKinley for three years and he's fine. I know Crawford was a little, you know, high class and the girls there were snooty but it's not like that here. You'll be fine, don't worry,"

"I wasn't worried. It's just high school. I'm gonna be okay," she said as she entered the hallway where her pre-assigned locker was. On her locker was a list of her classes.

Geometry, Mr. Cook, Room 105

Spanish II, Mr. Schuester, Room 207

English II, Mrs. Kole, Room 117

Study Hall- 11:00-11:45

Biology I, Mr. Burton, Room 203

Civics, Mr. Davis, Room 443

PE, Coach Sylvester, Gym

Band, Mrs. Wittaker, Band Hall

You will be given 4 minutes between classes

Study Hall is an open opportunity time, this is when clubs will meet

The bell rang, and she stalked off to Geometry.

"Adios, Mis estudiantes." Mr. Schuester said as the bell rang following second period. He stood by his open door as the students left. Layla was the last to leave, having dropped her binder. "You're an Anderson, right?"

"Yes sir, Layla. My brother is Blaine."

"Yeah, I know Blaine. He's joining Glee, right?" he asked.

"Of course. He loves acapella, choir, whatever you guys call it here."

"Have you thought about joining?" Mr. Schuester asked, smiling slightly. They needed new members.

"Not really my thing, I'm more of the band geek kinda girl, saxophones are cool, you know?" she joked.

"Why don't you at least stop by? See if you like it. We meet on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays during-"

"Study hall. Go it. I'll give it a chance, I guess," She answered, leaving quickly.

The choir room buzzed with activity. The few Glee members who hadn't seen each other over the course of the summer were hugging and catching up, the ones who were in relationships were kissing, and there was an aire of excitement over the room. Layla entered, getting an excited wave from her brother. She took a seat behind him and Kurt, on the end of a row. Mr. Schuester called everyone to attention.

"Welcome back, guys. It's nice to see our old face back," he motioned to Rachel in example," And even better to see new faces. How about we go about the room and introduce ourselves. Give your name, grade, and how long you've been in Glee club."

Layla listened, half interested, and when it was her turn, she gave her answer as nonchalantly as possible. "Layla Anderson, sophomore, first time in Glee." Between her name being Anderson, her curly hair, and 5'0'' height, it was easy for most of the club to see who her brother was.

Once the formalities were done, Mr. Schuester asked the kids to divide into groups: Alto, Soprano, Tenor, and Bass. Layla looked around, confused. "Um, I… I don't know what section I am." A few girls in the Soprano section giggled.

"She's a Soprano," Blaine said matter-of-fact-ly. "I's say Bb to high D."

_Twenty minutes in and I'm already lost…._ Layla thought. _Here we go…_

"Hey, Bari sax," The scrawny looking clarinet player called from the water line on the practice field. It was the first band practice of the school year, and Layla, being a new student, was still catching up on the field routine.

"Who, me?" Layla asked, pushing a curl back out of her face.

"Rollstep 16 counts after the straight eighths. Not 18," the boy said before turning around and conversing with his friends. Layla sighed. It was strange seeing a girl, especially one of her stature, playing a baritone saxophone, sure, but for some reason the kids in Lima couldn't wrap their heads around it. Layla bit her lip, re attaching her sax to the neckstrap and heading back to the first set to practice.

"Hey, you know you can bring clothes to change into for practice, right?" A voice from behind her asked. She turned to see the other bari sax player, a boy called Dylan whom she met during class. He seemed sweet, and helped her get her instrument put onto the high shelf.

"Well, I do now," she said, smiling slightly. "Dylan, right?"

"Yeah, and you're Layla Anderson." He blushed slightly. "I'm good with names."

Layla giggled and Dylan got a noticeable glint in his eyes. This made her blush, and she immediately looked down.

"Alright kids, first set." The director yelled, and they began walking to their opening positions.

"You shouldn't look down when you blush, you know. It's kinda cute," he said before they were called to silence by the drum major.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun beat down on Layla's sweat covered back as she set out on her way home from her first day of school. Band practice went surprisingly well, she remembered Christian's (aka Scrawny Clarinet Boy) advice. She looked forward, trying to read a political sign a few lawns ahead. Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires braking a few feet from her startled her into jumping.

She turned around to see a 2001 Ford Ranger stopped two feet behind her. It was Dylan, the boy from band. "What do you want?" she asked through the open passenger window.

"Need a ride? It's hot out."

Layla smiled. Sure, Dylan wasn't the _most _attractive guy in around, and certainly not the thinnest, but he was sweet. She pulled the door open and sat down. "Thanks."

"No problem. Where do you live?" He pulled off, heading straight on the high way.

"Down Strater…we don't have to go straight there though. I mean, if you want to go straight there that's fine but that's just like 3 blocks from here but if you want to not go anywhere else you don't have to."

Dylan chuckled. "You're nervous, huh? I would be too if a nerdy fat guy I just met picked me up."

"You're not fat." She looked over at him, her eyes tracing his face before moving down to his arms. A bit of darker flesh caught her eye, and she examined it carefully before realizing it was a cross stitch pattern of scars on his bicep. She looked back at his face, ice forming in her stomach as she realized they were most likely self-made.

"You don't have to lie to me, Layla Anderson. It's fine. I'll just bring you home." He turned down Strater Road.

"I'm not lying. You're not fat. I think you're kinda cute." She said, shrugging. He looked at her questioningly.

"I'm taking it your house is the one with "Anderson" on the mailbox?" he asked, pulling in.

"Yeah, it is." She said, letting him park. "You're wrong, you know?"

"About what?"

"You're not ugly like you think you are. You're really cute and really nice and I think you're a cool guy." She said, and stepped out of the truck. She waved a goodbye and walked into her home.

"Why are you so late?" Sandra Holmes asked as her son walked through the door. She was feeding a baby girl in a high chair while a pot of macaroni boiled on the stove.

"I had to give a friend a ride home from practice. It only took five minutes, Momma."

Sandra set the spoon she was feeding the baby with down. "I don't care. I was expecting you home at 5:45 and it's almost 6:00. I had to start dinner late."

"Look Momma, I'm sorry. You wouldn't want me to let a little bitty girl walk home three blocks after football practice got out all alone, though, would you?"

His mother sighed. "Feed your sister." Dylan smiled, knowing he won the conversation. He picked up the spoon and began shoveling processed pea flavored goop into the baby's mouth.

"Is that's good, 'Chelle? Eatin' peas! Nasty ass, processed peas! I didn't raise you like this!" He said in a silly voice, making little Michelle laugh and splattering half-eaten pea baby food across the high chair seat. "You spitting it out! You little nasty!"

The baby ate her food and after the family ate dinner, Dylan went to his room. Locking the door, he turned on some heavy metal song and sat on his bed. He shut his eyes, thinking. Thinking about all the shit he had going on. His baby sister trying to call him "Daddy" because he took most care of her, his daddy, who he hadn't talked to in three months, his ex…

Ah, his ex. Katie Arbor. The girl he wanted to marry who turned out to be cheating on him and pregnant. The girl who ruined his entire life. As Katie consumed his thoughts, he sat up, pulling a small box from beneath his pillow. He opened it, producing a small blade. "Yep," he thought, "exactly what you deserve." He placed the tiny shard against his skin as another thought entered his mind.

"You're really cute and really nice"

He smiled slightly, tucking the blade away. Maybe he didn't deserve it today. He did a good thing today.

Layla layed sprawled out across her bed, old Avril Lavigne blasting in her headphones. Her ceiling was oddly beautiful at this angle, she noted, her right hand sliding up and down the row of self-inflicted scars on her thigh. The gentle, hilly texture of her scarred thigh was intoxicating. It reminded her of similies and metaphors and weed and wine and mistakes and ex-boyfriends and everything she had ever reblogged on Tumblr. They were her reminders.

Her brother entered her room, no knocking, and plopped down next to her.

"Blaine!" she lamented, yanking the headphones from her ears. "I'm not even wearing any pants!"

"I know. That's not the point."

"Well what is the point?" She asked, moving to distance her legs from her brother.

"A boy drove you home today. "

"Yes, a boy did drive me home today."

"Is that your boyfriend?" Blaine asked, his hands between his knees.

"No it is not. " She responded, smiling the tiniest about possible.

"Not yet!" Blaine said merrily, and at that he left the room.


End file.
